Goodbye Storybrooke
by HelenaHermione
Summary: As the curse is broken and people remember their lives in Storybrooke and in the fairy tale kingdoms, they look beyond, towards the future. Set in the middle of the first season finale, and into season 2, featuring your favorite characters, with new ones coming soon.
1. Welcome Back

My first Once Upon A Time fanfic, I hope you enjoy it. Takes place during the season finale, and going beyond.

* * *

**1. Welcome Back**

Goodbye Storybrooke, hello Boston, David Nolan sighed to himself, driving away from the hometown he had just gotten used to after waking up from his coma. He would miss it here very much-he would especially miss Mary Margaret, but he had messed up his life here too much, and now he was driving away alone, unable to stand it without her by his side. He couldn't understand it.

First of all, he must have had a great life with Katherine, once upon a time and long ago, back when he had been so certain of himself and knew who he was. He could remember vaguely being happy with Katherine, that they had everything he had ever wanted out of life. He must have had a great time with Katherine all of those years ago, otherwise he would not have gotten married to her, right? What was the matter with him? She didn't deserve all of the heartache that she must have felt with him over the years.

First of all they had drifted apart, then he had vanished, and then he had reappeared, not the same man that he once was and not remembering her, and finally he had an affair with Mary Margaret. Katherine must have been devastated, even before she had gotten kidnapped. David should have told her the truth a long time ago, he knew, back when he had first started feeling some kind of affection for Mary Margaret. It would have saved Katherine some of the pain she must have felt, when she had struggled to try and save their marriage after finding him again. It would have been a cleaner break, without all of the heartache.

And Mary Margaret Blanchard...he had wronged her so badly, he didn't even know where to start. She had found him at the toll bridge, and he had latched onto her for some reason, unable to comprehend why he felt such feelings. Mary Margaret had wanted to let him go, or at least she had tried to tell him so, but he had been so persistent that she could not resist, especially when she had felt the same way. When they had fallen in love, she insisted that he should tell Katherine, but he had put it off until it was too late, even lying to Mary Margaret, saying that he had already told Katherine.

David did not get half the blame that Mary Margaret did, when people accused her of breaking up a happy marriage, and he should have spoken up for her. David did not speak up for her, he did not defend her like he should have done, what was the matter with him?

Perhaps he was afraid of facing all of those people, all of those accusing faces he did not really know, and disappointing Katherine in the process. But if it was true love that he had felt for Mary Margaret, then he would have stood up for her, he should have stood up to the crowd that silently accused her, and told them to leave Mary Margaret alone, that she was not to blame, and that if they wanted to stone someone, they could stone him.

He should have done that, but he didn't, and when Katherine went missing, and people started to suggest that it was Mary Margaret-he didn't know what to think anymore. He had lost all of the fight in him. He felt listless, helpless, and his mind had slipped. He had doubts that even he could not fathom. Mary Margaret wouldn't do that, Mary Margaret was kind and sweet, Mary Margaret was-wronged, and what would a woman do if she was painfully, horribly wronged by her lover, and scorned by his wife?

Mary Margaret was innocent, however, Katherine appeared, alive, and David realized his horrible mistake, but it was too late—Mary Margaret would never forgive him. She deserved to feel that way, and when he had suggested that she leave with him, turn away from Storybrooke, Katherine, and everything else that had pained them these last few months, Mary Margaret had said no, "I can't". She deserved to say no, and he knew that, so he had just left, hoping that she might be able to forgive him someday. Perhaps she would forget him. Perhaps he would forget her. Boston was a big town, and Storybrooke was so small, so inconsequential in the end-NO. He would never forget. He would never forget her.

He would just live the rest of his life alone. He wished that he could just go back, and erase all of the time-suddenly, something snapped inside of him, and swept across him, like a hurricane-force wind, and he stopped his truck on the side of the road. David Nolan died, and was reborn as James in a single instant.

"Gods," James gasped, looking around him. "What sort of-" The truck he had driven, the wrappers of the burger stand, the forest beyond his window, the sign saying Leaving Storybrooke—David had lived a strange life, James realized. David resided in him, somewhere, buried deep underneath, and though James remembered a part of that life, David was not James. James remembered the mistakes David had made, and regretted them.

"Foolish," He muttered, shaking his head. He would not have done all of that. He would have treated Abigail better-he had treated Abigail better, as a matter of fact, back when they had broken off their engagement. And Snow-

"Snow!" James gasped, turning the truck around. Snow was back there, he had left Snow behind, Queen Regina would—he pounded his hand against the horn. "Damn, damn!" He cried, honking. He could not believe that David would be so foolish as to leave his true love behind in this wretched hell-hole of Storybrooke. It was absurd, nothing could be better than true love. Never leave true love behind you, no matter the cost.

"Snow, I'm coming," He muttered, speeding up his truck. It was faster than a horse, but it wasn't the same. He hoped that Snow would remember him by now. The change had occurred in him so suddenly that perhaps it was spreading throughout Storybrooke. But what could be so powerful as to cause such an effect?

"True love's kiss?" He guessed, half-smiling. He hoped it was. He stopped the truck near the edge of town and got out, striding forth in search of his.

* * *

David was gone, she knew, she just couldn't believe it. Mary Margaret shook her head as she turned away from the road leading out of town. Without him, the whole world, not just Storybrooke, seemed...different. He must have gone this morning, while she was reading by Henry's bedside. Poor boy. She whimpered just thinking about it, how the doctors had rushed to his bedside to try and save him. Henry had been so strong, so full of life and love, and brave, too, but now he was gone-dead, dying, she just couldn't believe it. Poor boy. It didn't seem right or fair that a child could be taken away from the ones who loved him, in the prime of his life, before he even got to know anything about the world. Perhaps the world didn't deserve him and his goodness, his love and his faith, but the world would have been better with him in it.

David would have loved Henry if he had gotten to know him better. Henry could make anyone smile and laugh. Last night, after talking with David, Mary Margaret had regretted her actions almost immediately afterward, and missed him. Perhaps she should have gone with him, but it was too late for her. She could not stand him anymore. Her whole world, her spirit, had shattered when David had woken up from his coma, and entered her life. It was a perverted kind of love, a twisted, cursed kind of love, that they had known together, and she wanted nothing to do with it anymore.

They had been tossed together into a maelstrom of emotions from the start, and then had been torn apart by the circumstances. David was married. Katherine didn't know about the affair. David lied to her. Katherine found out about the affair. Katherine went missing. She had been accused of killing Katherine, and arrested. David doubted her. She had escaped prison, intending to escape Storybrooke. Katherine had been found, alive, the case against her a sham. David had tried to apologize to her. David was leaving, and wanted her to go with him. She wouldn't go with him. And that was the end of the most miserable chapter in Mary Margaret's long, miserable life.

Maybe she should become a nun, go into exile, at least it would be easier than trying to move on from this affair and on with her life, Mary Margaret had thought as she entered the apartment that she had shared with Emma last night. She just couldn't forget about David. She would never forget about David. Maybe she would just die alone, penniless, heartbroken-maybe from drinking. Where was Emma? She wondered to herself, until she had found the note that Emma had left, and rushed to the hospital to see Henry.

Emma had gone, apparently with Regina, and Mary Margaret had stayed by Henry's bedside, reading to him, until his heart monitor-she just couldn't stay in the hospital then, alone in this crowd, to watch Henry die. She was perhaps the only person there who truly cared about him, and she was not so brave then, not brave enough to watch him die, after what had happened with David. She had left the hospital as soon as she could, weeping, wondering where Emma and Regina was. What could be so important that they would leave their son alone-on his deathbed? She would never leave her son alone, in such dire circumstances, if she ever had one. She wished that Henry would just wake up, like David had, and smile at her, telling her that everything was going to be all right.

In the cold morning air, Mary Margaret walked down the street, not really thinking about anything but what had just happened, when suddenly something swept across her, in her and through her, and she tripped. But she regained her footing, and remained standing, tall and proud and steady-Snow White, the fairest one of all.

All of these years...she realized, suddenly. All of these days, all of these hours, all of these moments-what had gone on in her life? She realized. Nothing had happened. Nothing had ever happened to Mary Margaret. Her life would never be the same. She was Snow White, not Mary Margaret anymore. That was—that was so pitiful and so desperate, and-so full of remorse. She never wanted to live that way again. She wouldn't have to, if she had her way, but she would never forget—David or Mary Margaret.

The people all around her, friends and neighbors, were waking up from a dream-and it had been a dream, a nightmare of the worst kind, Snow realized, but it had been real. In this town, in this place, in this time, it had been real for the longest time. She walked around, dazed and confused, listening and watching the others marveling over their transformation, their awakening into their true selves, and she thought that all of this was the greatest day that had ever happened in the history of Storybrooke, all 28 years of it. Twenty-eight pitiful years of life, wasted, frozen and trapped in this hell-hole without waking up, but it was real.

* * *

"Snow!" She heard—James cry, and turned around. "Charming," She said, and realized it was all she had ever really wanted in this town, her Charming. She had missed him so much, he had been so far away, and she had been right there along with him. She would never forget him again. She would never forget their love again. They clutched each other tightly, staring into each other's faces, and she realized that this was real, that nothing else mattered. "I love you, James," She whispered.

"I love you, Snow White," He said, and they kissed. They had found each other again. Nothing else-"I'm sorry-" He started to say.

"Don't, just don't," She said, biting his lips. "Not now, not-" She inhaled sharply. "Wait," She said, pushing herself away from him reluctantly. "We have to find Emma." She said.

"Emma? Our Emma? How?" He asked, shaking his head. "Where do we even start?"

"The hospital. She would go back there," Snow said, turning away, "Back to Henry." She whispered, remembering.

"Henry? But-" James paused, and Snow turned back to him. He seemed confused.

"What is it?" Snow asked, worried.

"Our Emma is—Emma Swan?" James asked, surprised.

"Oh, James," Snow said, clutching at him. "I'm sorry, you didn't know, you were—it's been 28 years." She said.

"28 years?" James gasped, clutching her.

"Yes, we were trapped here, frozen in time, not aging or changing, for 28 years, and we didn't even know it." She said. "Emma grew up here in this world without us, outside of Storybrooke. Her name is Emma Swan because of the blanket she was found with, the swan blanket with her name stitched in it. I found it amongst her things while I was still Mary Margaret. I didn't know." She said, looking down. "I should have known, I almost recognized it, but I tried to forget it."

"Emma Swan." James said, gasping. "I didn't know either. But she's so—so headstrong, so serious, and—and she's got your eyes," James said, staring at Snow. "Oh, Snow, what have we done?" He asked.

"I don't know, but we did the right thing, the only thing we could have done," Snow said, as best she could. "We tried our best to save her. She would have been stuck here, just like us, maybe an orphan, a helpless baby for all of these years."

"A baby..." He said, looking down into his arms that had held her last, picturing the last time he had seen her in his arms. It was too soon, too fast for him. "She would have been just the same." He said.

Snow frowned. "Regina wouldn't have let us have her. She would have kept her away from us, and we never would have known." Snow said.

"Never?" James said, looking up.

"Never. Because of what we did, Emma grew up to break the curse, and now we remember." Snow said, realizing this was the truth even as she said it.

"True love's kiss," James said, looking around him. "Snow, this is what she did, all of this." He laughed. "We remember because she gave us true love's kiss back."

"Henry." Snow gasped. "We thought he was dead, dying, but it was just the sleeping curse." She smiled at James, and started to dance around him. "Henry's not dead, he's alive, he's alive, Emma must have brought him back from the sleeping curse with a kiss. True love's kiss, a mother's kiss." Snow gasped and stopped.

"Henry is-" James blinked. "We have a grandson?" He asked.

"It's been 28 years." Snow told him. "Henry is our grandson."

"I don't feel that old." James said.

"You are that old. We are that old. You just forgot." Snow remarked. "I don't feel that old either." She remarked.

"One step at a time." James said, glancing around. "We need to regroup. Focus on-Regina, and Rumplestilskin." He muttered.

"Why can't we stop? Why can't we stop and rest?" Snow asked him. "I just got you back, I just got Emma and Henry—we're a family again." She said. "And everyone else—why can't we just stop and rest?" She asked, frowning. "We've won, haven't we? Regina lost, the curse is broken, we're back to-" She shook her head.

"Back to what? Our lives are not back to normal," James said, turning to her. "They will never be back to normal again. Our lives are broken, our destinies ripped apart, to shreds—Regina might have lost for now, but she will try again." He frowned. "She has already destroyed our lives once-let us not let her destroy them again."

"I know that." Snow said. "But we have the advantage here. Strength in numbers, and knowledge of what she has done to us. She will never be able to rise against us, not without magic." She said.

Suddenly, they felt a wind—they looked up fearfully as a pink and purple cloud of swirling dust, like magic, swept across the town. "You were saying?" James asked, linking arms with her.

"Me and my big fat mouth." Snow grimaced.

"I like your big fat mouth." James said, grinning at her as the cloud swept them up.

* * *

What do you think? To be continued! Review and put on alert, please.


	2. Hopper

Thank you all for your responses! Here is the second chapter featuring Dr. Hopper. I hope my psychiatric analysis is accurate/realistic enough to portray Dr. Hopper's diagnosis of Henry's mental state. Please forgive any mistakes/errors in judgment on my part. Please read and review.

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**2. Hopper**

Dr. Archie Hopper sighed as he shut the door of his psychiatric office, and locked up that early morning, thinking that he might go get a bagel with cream cheese and some coffee at Granny's Diner before he went home to rest. Last night, just before he was supposed to have closed up and gone home, the hospital called, asking about any medical records he might have on file for one Henry Mills, and if Henry took any kind of medication.

"What is this for? What's going on?" Hopper asked, concerned.

"A few minutes ago, Henry Mills was rushed into this hospital by a Ms. Emma Swan." The nurse reported. "The boy was in a comatose-like state, unresponsive to stimuli, and Dr. Whale was unable to determine what has caused this fugue-like state. Ms. Swan suggested Henry had been poisoned by eating an apple turnover, but the results are inconclusive." The nurse said.

Hopper gasped, shaking his head. Henry? The boy who always-he couldn't believe it. "I don't-I don't prescribe him anything at all," Hopper said, taking off his glasses for a moment to wipe his eyes. "He's too young for that sort of treatment, and I'm fairly certain he doesn't take any medication at all. You would have to ask his pediatrician or his mother to be certain. I can fax you the reports I have, but I need Ms. Mills' permission, or Dr. Whale's code."

The code was given as Ms. Mills was not available to supply permission. Dr. Hopper was tight-lipped about his feelings, but it struck him as odd that Regina was not around to watch over Henry, and that it had been his biological mother who had brought him into the hospital during his most crucial hour. He had been Henry's psychiatrist for several years now, and though Henry's insistence that his mother was the Evil Queen had only arisen in the last year or two, Dr. Hopper had noted a tenseness between Henry and his adoptive mother that had already become fairly deep-rooted by the time treatment started.

He supposed it was the result of Henry's isolation as the mayor's son, singled out for preferential treatment and undue notice from Storybrooke citizens who feared and respected the mayor, not really noticing him as an individual separate from his mother. The mayor commanded attention in the public sphere and relegated Henry to the background during her average workday, bringing him forward to public attention only at major events, where he would be seated by her side. Even at such public events, Henry remained isolated with his mother.

Children picked up on non-verbal cues from their parents, and surely must have noticed how stiff their parents became whenever Regina brought Henry to school in the morning. They then imitated their parents' behavior, and remained stiff with Henry. Henry then had little chance of becoming friends with other students, until he tried to act out and reach out to others, using an exaggerated extrovert behavior to mask his introverted nature. That he latched onto others was a success, though oftentimes he obsessed over these attachments.

Then Henry had found the storybook, and became obsessed with trying to fit the stories and characters to real-life situations and people he had met around him. Dr. Hopper was intrigued by this fantasy world Henry was developing, and though it was a delusion, he thought it best to maintain the delusion for now, in case Henry's psyche might react violently against attempts to correct his outlook.

There was danger of a permanent break with reality if the fantasy went on for too long, but if Henry maintained and developed healthy relationships with other people, perhaps even as a result of the delusion, then there was a chance that eventually Henry would let go of his delusion, realizing reality was real, and more satisfying than any other delusion.

Unfortunately, Regina had gotten the worst part of Henry's delusion as the Evil Queen, which had further stiffened the tension between Regina and Henry, and matters had only gotten worse when Emma Swan, Henry's biological mother, had entered the fray. Dr. Hopper had attempted to steer Henry towards a more positive viewpoint on his adoptive mother, suggesting that Regina had done her part to take care of Henry for many years now, but Henry had remained neutral or negative on his feelings for Regina.

Recent sessions had been full of praise for Emma Swan, however, especially as she took on a more active role as Henry's biological mother. Dr. Hopper noted the negative and positive actions Emma had undertaken, both to support and discourage Henry's delusion, and left it at that. He did not know for certain, but he believed Emma was having a positive effect on Henry's life, especially as a role model. Though some of her methods were a little unorthodox, and could steer Henry down a wrong path later on in life, some levity was required in Henry's life after years of restrictions and rules. At least Henry had the ability now to choose for himself what he wanted to do or who he wanted to be, comparing his two mothers.

(Not to mention the fact that Ms. Swan had saved both Henry and himself when they had gotten trapped down in the mine, but that was another matter entirely.)

* * *

However, Dr. Hopper was more concerned about Henry's physical welfare now, and asked the nurse to call him back if Henry's condition changed, for better or worse. He faxed Henry's information to the hospital after he hung up the phone, and then after that there was nothing else for him to do but wait. He felt sort of helpless, and wished that he could have done more to assist the hospital in curing Henry. He realized that this was the first time, as far as he could recall, that a patient of his had been in serious trouble, on the verge of death it seemed.

Could Henry die? Archie gasped as the thought entered his mind. It seemed impossible for one so young and full of life, as he recalled Henry to be, sitting there on his couch during their weekly sessions, to die, but it was possible, as people did die, including children. If his condition deteriorated enough—Archie shook his head. He would not consider it. Sometimes the psychiatric nature pervaded too much of his mind; sometimes he had to let go of analysis, and consider his own feelings on an instinctual nature.

Finally, as Dr. Hopper waited, nodding off now and again when he could not stay awake forever, the phone rang. He immediately grabbed the phone and answered, "Dr. Hopper."

"Dr. Hopper, I'm sorry, but Henry passed away." The nurse said.

"I understand. I'm sorry. Please pass on my condolences to Ms. Emma Swan and Ms. Regina Mills. Thank you." Dr. Hopper said, his heart plummeting about a thousand feet before he hung up the phone. Poor Henry. He would never grow up—Archie choked up, and started crying.

So Archie Hopper left his psychiatric practice that morning, depressed and full of dashed hopes and dreams for the young man who could have been great. Yet as he walked away from that place where he had spent a restless night, a wind pulsed and pushed through him, and suddenly—he was Jiminy Cricket.

* * *

Jiminy Cricket stopped and stared at his surroundings, shocked by what had just happened, as he dully and duly noted all of the other people affected by such a change, how the awareness that they were gaining of their past lives corresponded with an appraisal of their current lives, comparing and contrasting the differences between them. Such a major breakthrough might be worthy of a scholarly journal article.

Jiminy realized this just as he realized that he was not a cricket-why was he not a cricket? Surely he would have changed back into a cricket if he could. Life had been better for him, back when he was a cricket, and not-Jiminy gasped, realizing that Gepetto would be remembering just like he did. He couldn't face Gepetto like this! Gepetto would remember the horrible things he had done, how bad he was as a conscience for both Gepetto and Pinocchio, and Jiminy did not feel like facing him right now.

Jiminy immediately tried to hop back to the door, and banged against the glass. Right, human, he couldn't jump like he used to. Distances were not as far as they once were. He would have to walk or run, until he got used to this height and weight. He unlocked the door, stepped inside gingerly, and bolted the door behind him, before he turned to the stairs.

Oh, stairs, he could hop-and banged his knees down on the steps. Ow. Jiminy managed to stand up, and slowly went up the steps, grimacing to himself as he went up to hide in his office. But when he entered, the phone was ringing off the hook—Jiminy managed to answer, gingerly picking up the receiver. "Hello?" He said, uncertain how to greet his callers now.

"Jiminy, is that you?" A familiar female voice said on the other end.

Jiminy gasped. "Blue Fairy!" He cried.

"Jiminy, it's so good to hear your voice again." He could practically feel the Blue Fairy's smile through the line. "It's been so long. I had to call you once I got my memory back. I was uncertain at first, but it is you, I knew it." She paused. "How are you?" She asked.

"I've been better." Jiminy sighed. "I heard, just awhile ago, when I was still Archie, that Henry-he died, Blue Fairy, and I-"

"No, it was the sleeping curse." Blue Fairy said. "Henry is alive, Emma kissed him. It broke the curse."

"That's great news!" Jiminy cried, and whooped. "Oh, Emma-Snow White's daughter." Jiminy whispered. "I should have realized that's who she is. Emma did it, just like-oh, Blue Fairy, where is Pinocchio?" Jiminy asked.

"That's what I called you about." Blue Fairy hesitated. "You're still human, right?"

"Right. I haven't changed back into a cricket. Magic doesn't work here, does it?" Jiminy asked, worried.

"It does not. I'm afraid I have no magic either. The curse is broken in that we remember who we are, and what our lives are supposed to be, but we cannot do anything about it. We are trapped still in a land without magic. We cannot change ourselves, nor can we go back to our kingdoms. But there is something, Jiminy, something very important I must tell you," The Blue Fairy said, Jiminy hanging onto her every word.

"I have been studying the curse, or what's left of it anyway in its tattered remnants," She continued, "and there is a structure to our prison, which was Storybrooke. For as long as the curse remained intact, we could not leave Storybrooke without dire consequences, nor could anyone enter Storybrooke without belonging here, being born in our kingdoms or as a descendent. I believe the point was to keep us all together so that the curse could remain unbroken over us, and to keep out outsiders who might notice our strange ways."

"What is the point?" Jiminy asked.

"The point is, of the only outsiders to have entered Storybrooke in the past 28 years, having been outside the cursed zone when enacted, one was Emma, the other was Henry as her son, and finally 'the stranger' August Wayne Booth!"

"Pinocchio!" Jiminy gasped, remembering what little he had seen of the stranger from afar. "He's grown."

"He's had 28 years to do so, while we remained frozen." The Blue Fairy said.

"But there's no magic here." Jiminy said, his concern back.

"Which is why I need you to go check up on him." The Blue Fairy sighed. "I need to remain here for the moment. I believe there are other situations I have to deal with, and I can't do much for Pinocchio now. Good-bye, Jiminy."

"Wait! But what about-" But the Blue Fairy had already hung up. "Gepetto." Jiminy whispered, the silence ringing in his ears in his empty office. Gepetto would have to be dealt with.

* * *

Jiminy slowly got up, and left his office, Archie's office, deciding he couldn't stay here anymore. He had to see August, Pinocchio, and decide what to do there. He wondered if Pinocchio knew who he was. Probably, if Pinocchio had remained outside of the cursed zone, he must have retained his memories of himself, Gepetto, and Jiminy.

And Emma-they had sent Pinocchio to this land without magic to take care of Emma, or at least Gepetto had, but Emma and Pinocchio had arrived in Storybrooke separately, Emma apparently had no clue before about Henry's—realization that they were all fairy tale characters...surely if Pinocchio had stayed with Emma for all of these years, they would have arrived here together, and Emma would have known what she should do, would have been ready to take up her mantle as savior much sooner?

But Pinocchio hadn't been ready to take care of Emma, had he? He was just a scared little boy forced to take care of a baby, all alone in a strange world that must have looked down upon him, and frowned on his 'delusions' that he was Pinocchio, and Emma—Emma might have been left alone in this world to fend for herself if Pinocchio had fled, upset and unwilling, unable to take on this responsibility. Poor Emma. Poor Pinocchio. They had expected too much of such children.

Jiminy thought about all of this as he went downstairs, restraining himself from hopping, and opened the front door-right into Gepetto. "Oh my." Jiminy said, lowering his head and hesitating. "Gepetto."

"Jiminy, where are you going?" Gepetto asked.

"I'm going-I'm going-to see August," Jiminy said, unable to lie to his oldest and dearest friend, the boy he had raised after destroying his parents.

Gepetto's eyes widened. "Pinocchio." He whispered. "He helped me fix the clock, just like I taught him. Lead the way, Jiminy."

"Right," Jiminy said, hesitating. "The Blue Fairy called, she-she was worried." He added.

Gepetto nodded. "I know. I-I have thought that-if anything were to happen...it would be here, in this cursed Storybrooke." He muttered. "Lead the way. I want to see my boy." He said.

"Right," Jiminy said, and they headed to Granny's Bed and Breakfast together, Jiminy hopping every now and again as he still wasn't used to walking across long distances.

* * *

As they entered the inn, Granny was at the front desk, polishing a gun she must have kept under the desk. She looked up. "Gepetto," She greeted with a smile, and then stopped at the sight of the other man. "Jiminy, is that you? You're Archie?" She asked.

"That's right, I am." Jiminy said, nodding. "This is what I looked like before the Blue Fairy turned me into a cricket. We would like to see August."

"August? He's upstairs, 2B, but why-" Gepetto was already turning to the stairs, and hurrying up them. "He's not...Pinocchio, is he?" Granny asked, gasping. "That boy?"

"He is, we'll explain later," Jiminy said, running up after Gepetto. They would be so angry to learn that the wardrobe could have fit two people.

Jiminy stopped to see Gepetto standing in front of 2B-the door was ajar, it appeared to have been broken into. "I'm scared." Gepetto admitted, looking back at his guide.

"It's okay to be scared," Jiminy said, coming towards him. "I will look for you." He said.

"No, we will look together," Gepetto said, opening the door—"Oh, my boy, my dear, sweet Pinocchio," Gepetto whimpered, staggering forward towards the bed, and falling upon his knees in front of it. He grasped the large wooden hands that he had shaped in miniature, and the big green bejeweled eyes—still the same as they once were. "Wake up, Pinocchio." Gepetto whispered.

Jiminy leaned against the doorway, his breath caught in his throat as he stared at the wooden shell of his other friend. He should have known, he had expected, but nothing could have prepared him for this. And there was nothing that could be done. No Blue Fairy to save him now. Pinocchio...was dead.

* * *

Suddenly, he felt a wind, through the cracks in the window panes-Jiminy looked up, and saw a large pink and purple cloud rising and rushing swiftly through the landscape. Jiminy immediately recognized the work of magic. "Gepetto!" He cried, rushing forward to sweep aside the curtains, and start unlocking the window in the hotel room. "There may be hope yet." He whispered, laughing to himself.

Gepetto looked up and saw the cloud. "Gods, let it come," He cried, petting Pinocchio's hand. "Jiminy, maybe he should be by the window, to let the magic wash over him. Help me get him up and over there."

Together, Jiminy and Gepetto hoisted up Pinocchio's wooden body, and dragged him carefully towards the window, in an upright position, facing the wind and the cloud. "I may turn back into a cricket if the magic comes." Jiminy warned Gepetto.

"I will hold him up," Gepetto said, and the cloud was upon them.

It froze and blew them apart, before righting them back up again, a mighty forceful wind that altered everything about them, and yet almost everything stayed the same. Jiminy felt the blood flowing through his veins and the breath in his lungs coming in and out as the magic stung and hurt him, piercing him.

Yet he was fine, better than fine, he was exhilarated, even more alive than he had ever been, even though he should be dead with this force of magic coming through him. He felt himself alternating between man and cricket, but for now he stayed a man, if he so willed it, and the wood he felt in his hands started to shift and change as well, now becoming flesh and blood, though the scent of pine and the roughness remained.

The cloud departed, passed over them, and Pinocchio drew breath, human again. "Us." He said, before he nearly collapsed. Jiminy and Gepetto managed to catch him, though he was heavier than he was before.

Pinocchio looked up, into the faces of his nearest and dearest. "Papa?" He asked, turning his head as they helped straighten him up. "Jiminy?"

"Right on both accounts." Gepetto laughed, hugging his son. "Pinocchio, my boy, my boy, I'm so proud of you, no matter what! I love you, my son."

"I'm still not-" Jiminy started to say, and then flashed back to cricket size. He chirped, and then suddenly changed back into a man. "Different. That's different." Jiminy managed to say, scratching his head. "How did that happen?" He asked.

Pinocchio laughed. "Come here, Jiminy, and join the hug," He said, with he and Gepetto welcoming Jiminy into their tight embrace.

"We did it, my son, we did it!" Gepetto crowed.

Pinocchio grinned. "You're right, I suppose we did do it," He said, not wanting to correct his father right now. Jiminy rolled his eyes slightly, but grinned. They could lie to themselves for now, they were together again. Storybrooke could wait.

* * *

You like it? I nearly thought about ending this chapter with Gepetto's and Jiminy's discovery of Pinocchio's body, but that would have been cruel. Please review!


	3. Grumpy

Thanks for all of the responses!

* * *

**3. Grumpy**

The mop slopped and swirled about on the floor as Leroy, a pace or two behind, guided it along across the floor towards the dirtiest spots, where the most foot traffic had passed through, or stretcher and wheelchair skid-marks had gouged into the floor. Occasionally he would angle his mop handle towards the darkest corners of the rooms and corridors that he passed through, where dirt and debris had piled up over time, kicked out of the way by other people walking along, not really minding their own business.

Sometimes he felt like such flotsam and jetsam, just pushed out of the way by other people in his life without a care for his feelings. But then he continued on with his life and business, not really wanting or caring to show his feelings to others. It exposed himself too much, and he hated being exposed. Why should he have to show himself? Let other people show themselves, dance around and all that. He could take the hint-hide the gargoyle in the corner, and let's forget about him for the night.

Leroy cleaned up all of these spots every single night on the first floor, not really caring about how he got by, just that he did the work, and could be satisfied with another job well done. He knew that it was his job to keep this hospital clean when sick people need a healthy environment to get well in.

How else could they get well if they got sick everyday with their rooms contaminated by outside dirt and debris? It was disgusting to think about all of the dirt and mud and filth that people brought in, just by being out and about in the world. He could be satisfied with himself then, knowing that he had done a good job without much reward in the night, working to keep the hospital clean, and then he could quit and retire for the day.

He oftentimes hummed and sang softly to himself when no one else could hear him, alone in the corridor during the darkest parts of the night. He sang whatever popped into his head, nonsense words, really, just to keep up the rhythm and the flow of the mopping. He thought a lot as well, mostly reflecting on politics, sports, whatever popped into his head. Sometimes he thought about Cheese Whiz and how gooey it was sprayed out of the can, not real cheese at all, just some industrial by-product. Words and song flowed through his mind like mop-water in the bucket during those long nighttime hours, just himself, the bucket, and the mop. They were playmates.

* * *

The evening before everything changed, Leroy was just minding his business, starting out on his nighttime shift, when a stretcher bearing the mayor's son—not looking too good, he thought to himself-barreled through the corridor, accompanied by Sheriff Swan—the boy's biological mother, or something like that?—and twelve doctors, at least as far as he could count.

He was the mayor's son, after all, Henry Mills, and not much action was going on elsewhere in the hospital. Of course any doctor worth a lick of spit would want to get in on the action, hoping to be the one to save the day, save the mayor's son, and win the mayor's commendation. Good luck with that, the boy already looked like he was going to be a goner. Leroy probably would be among them if he was a doctor, trying to save the kid, but then there wasn't much luck of that happening.

Leroy remembered Henry Mills visiting the hospital once or twice, and as far as Leroy was aware of, Henry was a good kid, a smart kid. Shame. No matter what happened, no matter what sort of wealth or prestige a person earned, or charmed life that person led, people would always wind up in the same place, here in this hospital, and finally in the morgue. It just came sooner for some than others. The sheet-covered stretcher would probably be wheeled out in the morning.

Leroy continued cleaning, noticing brief spurts of activity from time to time, coming from the ward Henry Mills had been placed in. Regina Mills came and went a couple of times, accompanied by Sheriff Swan at least once, and finally in the early morning hours, as Leroy finished up his shift, a whole swarm of doctors converged in on Henry's ward. It probably was the kid's final hour.

Leroy spotted Mary Margaret Blanchard leaving Henry's ward, and considered calling out to her, but then he noticed Mary Margaret's tear-stained eyes. Oh, that's right, Mary Margaret was the kid's teacher, or something like that. Poor kid. Poor Mary Margaret. She probably would be sobbing all day long. No need to bother her now.

* * *

Leroy put away his cleaning supplies in the storage closet as the sun rose and then went to wake up Walter the security guard before leaving the hospital. He knocked on the security office door, and then pushed it open after a moment. Walter, startled awake from one of his long infamously naps, nearly fell out of his chair.

"Hello, Leroy," Walter said, grabbing onto the edge of the table that supported all of the security monitors, and pushing himself up. He yawned. "How are you today?"

"Good morning, Walter. I'm doing just fine. Time to get up, rise and shine, and all that," Leroy said, standing in the doorway. "Well, I better get going. Nice speaking to you, Walter. See you tomorrow night." Leroy said, about ready to leave.

"Don't go just yet, Leroy," Walter said, staring at the security monitors. "What's that? What's going on there?" He asked, pointing at the screen.

Leroy came over to see what was bothering Walter. "Oh, that," He said, "It's the mayor's kid, Henry Mills. I think he's dead. The doctors did everything they could to try and save him. See, here comes Regina Mills, and Sheriff Swan, who I think is the boy's biological mother, into the room to pay their last respects."

"Poor kid." Walter muttered, yawning. "He looks like he's sleeping. See how peaceful he looks?" He told Leroy, as Sheriff Swan approached the boy.

"Yeah, poor kid. They all look peaceful, Walter, come the end," Leroy said, sighing to himself. "Well, I better get-" Leroy started to say, when suddenly Sheriff Swan kissed the boy on the monitor.

At once, they felt a swell of—he couldn't begin to describe it, the emotion, the feeling that swept through all of them, although he had felt the feeling once or twice before (true love)—and at once, they became Grumpy (Dreamy) and Sleepy.

* * *

"She kissed him, didn't she?" Grumpy asked after a pause, thinking to himself. "Kissed him just likes James kissed Snow."

"Uh-huh, that's right, true love's kiss," Sleepy yawned, stretching his arms out, and then smiled. "Just like Snow White, Emma Swan." He closed his eyes.

"Emma? Snow was going to name her daughter-" Grumpy gasped. "Emma is Snow White's daughter. And she broke the curse the Evil Queen put upon us. And Regina is right there!" He cried.

Sleepy gasped, startled awake by this pronouncement. "Oh, no, we have got to save them!" Sleepy cried, nearly falling out of his chair again. "Who knows what she will do to them?" He asked.

"Damn that bitch, she must have poisoned Henry, whom she adopted as her own son, just to get back at Emma and Snow." Grumpy snarled. "And Snow was-damn!" Grumpy cried, storming towards the door.

"I'm calling Sneezy!" Sleepy cried, reaching for his phone. "And I think I know how to contact Doc-we'll get the old gang back together, brothers again!"

"Brothers," Grumpy mused, storming through the hospital corridors, "I have seven-no, six brothers. Damn it, Stealthy is dead," He growled to himself. Leroy had no brothers, or sisters even, no one at all, except for some friends who were barely friends.

Speak of the devil-"Regina!" Grumpy shouted, spotting the devil running towards the door. People were stumbling about the hospital corridor, struggling to comprehend their past and present lives, in no mood currently to deal with the Evil Queen who had brought them here.

Regina stopped long enough to stare at him. "Grumpy, is it?" She said, in that cold, cruel voice she had. Why had he not recognized her before?

Grumpy roared, running for her-she moved fast, but he twisted to keep up with her, lunging to grab her. He knocked her down onto the floor, elbowing and kneeing her as much as he could to wrench her arm back and reach for her throat. But she twisted out of his grasp, kicking and swinging at him even as he tried to hold on to her. Finally, with a hard wallop at his face knocking him flat, she broke free, racing out of the hospital doors, and down the street.

* * *

Grumpy groaned, lying on the floor, wishing for a moment that he was still Leroy again-Leroy didn't have to worry about evil witches or such problems, Leroy just moped floors for a living, and that was that. But then again, there was no brothers, no Snow...no Nova in Leroy's life. There was Astrid, but—

Suddenly, Sheriff Emma Swan's face appeared, hovering over Grumpy. It was like looking into Snow's and James's faces combined. Gods, he missed Snow. Leroy had a crap life, he decided. "Hey, are you okay?" Emma asked, concerned.

"Fine." He held out his hand. "Grumpy." He said.

"Grumpy? Like one of the Seven-" Emma started to say, but then she blinked. "Oh," She said, grabbing onto Grumpy's hand, and helping to pull him up.

"That's right, one of the seven. We were eight, but Stealthy got killed. Thanks," Grumpy said, staring up at her. She looked a little uncomfortable. He wondered what was bothering her.

"Look, I know that you and-some of the others want to kill Regina for what she's done, but she needs to face justice." The words were harsh coming from Emma's mouth.

"Justice? You know what she's done to all of us, don't you? Justice is too good for her." Grumpy said, staring out to where Regina had disappeared. "Life is too good for her. She's stolen all of our lives. Our happiness. It's time to put an end to the misery she's caused us all of these years."

"We can't excuse what she's done, I agree, but that doesn't mean we should stoop to her level." Emma said, trying to put on a brave face. "We should strive to be better than that." She said.

"Better than that." Grumpy scoffed. "Listen, whatever ideas you might have about fairness and justice-they don't work sometimes in what you might call a fairy-tale kingdom. Sometimes you have to take justice in your own hands." He said, staring up at her. "You're still not used to this." He remarked.

"Used to what?" She asked.

"Being Snow White's daughter. Being Regina's enemy. Talking to one of the Seven Dwarfs." Grumpy grinned as she grimaced each and every time. Oh, gods, Emma Swan had to grow up soon.

"I'm just not used to it, okay? But I'm getting there," Emma said, and grimaced again. "I just had a talk with Pinocchio before he turned back to wood a few hours ago. And Rumplestilskin gave me my father's sword. And I just slayed a freaking huge dragon with a golden egg stuck in his throat an hour ago, okay? Thank you very much!" She cried.

Grumpy stared at her, astonished at all that she had already done and faced. What did she say about Pinocchio? And what was Rumplestilskin doing with James's sword? They had to have a talk with that old pawn shop owner sometime soon about getting some of their stuff back. Grumpy recalled now seeing some familiar items in Mr. Gold's shop that made him want to go over there right now and smash a couple of windows.

"I'm getting there, I'm just not used to it, and I-" She groaned. "I'm afraid I'm going to slip up. I nearly lost Henry today. Pinocchio's gone. And I—I still have to deal with Regina somehow, without hurting Henry's feelings. I'm afraid I'm going to mess up." She said.

Grumpy patted her hand. "There, there, you're going to be fine." He said, uncertain what else to say here.

"Thanks." She said, not quite taking him seriously.

"Mistakes will be made, sure, but you're learning how to handle yourself here in a dangerous situation, and at least you're trying to do the right thing. You're going to be fine. Snow and James, they would be proud of their little girl." He said.

Emma hesitated. "You really think so?" She asked.

"Of course so, I know them, the real them, not the-Mary Margaret Blanchard and David Nolan of this world." Grumpy scoffed. "Those people were the pale imitations of the real thing. You should meet them, really, face to face, Snow and James-the troubles they went to, the dangers they had to face, just to get back together again. Now that's a true love story." He laughed.

"The fairy tale you probably know didn't even cover half of the true story." He said, remembering it well now.

Emma slowly nodded. "Henry tried to get me to read the book with all of you in it-"

"That kid is smart. Henry is your son, and Snow White's grandson," Grumpy said, feeling old as he realized that fact. "Go back to him. Tell him everything is going to be all right here. Me and the other Dwarfs, we'll soon all be here in the hospital, protecting you all. Sleepy is the security guard Walter, he's calling them all up right now, and I bet you anything that Snow is coming here, along with James."

"Snow and James..." Emma said and then paused, staring at him. "You really think so?" She asked again, almost scared to meet her parents.

"Sure I'm sure. Snow was here last night, visiting Henry as Mary Margaret." Grumpy said, hoping that she was ready to meet Snow White and James. "When the curse was broken, I bet you anything that she probably knew at once what was happening, and knew that you would be here with Henry. Go to him, I'll send Snow over when she comes!" He called to her, as Emma raced off to be with Henry. Gods be with them, Grumpy thought to himself.

* * *

Speaking of-Grumpy spotted the Blue Fairy on the pay phone nearby, dressed in her Mother Superior outfit still, speaking to somebody. "I believe there are other situations I have to deal with, and I can't do much for Pinocchio now. Good-bye, Jiminy." The Blue Fairy said, hanging up the phone and staring across the room.

"Grumpy." She said, striding forward to meet him.

"Blue Fairy," He said, thinking for a moment that she was almost as bad as Regina was. And what was that about-something funny was going on here, with Pinocchio, and the Blue Fairy was involved in all of that mess.

"You did this to me," He remarked, gesturing at himself. "You made me who I am." He said. "I'm Grumpy!"

"I'm sorry about you and Nova." The Blue Fairy said. "I saw the situation for what it was-"

"For what it was? You made me-" Grumpy kicked the wall. "I could have been a better man." He said. "I could have been good, not Grumpy."

"You are good, Grumpy. Don't you see?" The Blue Fairy asked.

"See what?" Grumpy asked.

"You overcame the obstacles. Though life has been unkind to you," She said, lowering her head, "And you were treated unkindly, you overcame the obstacles life put before you, which you had submitted to and believed, and you proved yourself to be a loyal man, and a good friend, to Snow White in the process when she needed you most. I have tried to speak to you before privately about this, but you wouldn't even look at me, or listen when I had the chance. And I think it matters most now."

"What does?" Grumpy asked, hope and heart fluttering.

"She missed you, Grumpy," The Blue Fairy said, raising her head. "And her performance suffered because of it. I think that she would have been a better fairy if...she loved you, Grumpy, and I grant that she still does, even as she remembers it. I saw the situation for what it was, not as you both felt. I was wrong. I'm sorry." She whispered.

"Thank you." Grumpy said, breathing again, feeling light-hearted. "I can...court her again, anything I wish?" He asked.

"Anything you wish. There's the phone, I have the number for the abbey-"

"Give it to me," Grumpy said, snatching the phone out of her hands. After the Blue Fairy dialed in the numbers for him, she walked off, back in the direction of Henry's ward. He hoped she wouldn't mess with the kid or Emma like she had messed with him. Why did Snow have to be allied with her?

Grumpy nervously cleared his throat as the phone rang, and as soon as someone answered him, he said, "Hello, this is-Dreamy." The word managed to come out, even after all these years. "Tell Nova, formerly known as Sister Astrid, that I'm calling for her." He said with a smile. He was back.

* * *

What do you think? More to come. Coming up next-well, I was thinking about something with Emma, but maybe I might consider Granny and Red, as someone suggested.


End file.
